


State of Affairs

by lilnome



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Don't Kill Me, Momma Louisanna, Rage, gray!nations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2019-11-15 09:38:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18070931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilnome/pseuds/lilnome
Summary: The nations discover a secret that America has hidden for centuries. How will they cope with the understanding that they have children they've never met?





	1. Chapter One

Alfred was losing his mind. He had been stuck in this meeting for bordering on four hours, and at this point it was pure chaos. France and England were arguing, the Asian nations were acting condescending, Greece was asleep, and Spain and Prussia were laughing at something. Germany was trying (and failing) to regain control. He pondered on how his children were doing. Then the large double doors flew open, slamming against the walls. Standing in the now open doorway was a girl of maybe sixteen, with skin the color of fresh-tilled earth, wild curly black hair, and heterochromatic eyes. The left was sky-blue, the right lavender. Curled in her arms was a girl of no more than seven, who was sobbing and thrashing wildly. Her skin was a deep tan, and her long hair jet black. All eyes snapped to the two, who were running towards him. He and Matthew exchanged a charged look. The older girl skidded to a halt beside his chair, and he took the younger of the two from her arms.

“What are you two doing in New York?” He glanced at the sobbing girl, and something clicked “Flashback?” He asked, softly, adjusting the girl in his arms until her arms were wrapped around his neck and she was sobbing into his shoulder. He ran his hand up and down the small girls back, trying to calm his youngest. The elder of the two nodded, gasping for breath. “What happened?” He then turned his head so he was whispering in his charges ear. “Leilani, breath for me, pepe, breathe. It’s two-thousand-nineteen. You’re with me. We’re in New York. Breathe.” The elder girl sucked in a deep breath, composing herself.

“She was supposed to be in bed. Matt was watching a documentary on that day so that he could connect with her more. She wandered into the room. We were all woken up by her screaming. She screamed for two hours, and only stopped because her voice gave out. She’s been crying for the last three. No-one could calm her down, not even Nicolas or Aleck. We finally decided to bring her to you. Please, Daddy, I don’t know what to do.” The girl had an odd accent that made her hard to understand, but she was clearly distressed, and sounded close to tears. Canada set a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to him. She buried her face in his hoodie, and he wrapped his arms around her.

“Louisa, it’s okay. You did what you could. Who knows how long this could have gone on if you hadn’t brought her here.” The girl continued sobbing for a minute, before responding.

“I know, Uncle Matthew, but what happens now? All the nations have seen me, seen us.” Matthew glanced at his brother, before returning to the girl who was evidently his niece.  
“We’ll figure it out, Louisa. We’ll figure it out.” The girl did not seem mollified, but accepted her uncle’s answer.

“Oi, America! Who the bloody hell are the brats?” England’s voice carried in the room that was otherwise silent, save the sobs if the girl in America’s arms. Alfred glared at England.

“These are two of my daughters. The one with Mattie is Louisa, and this,” He jerked his chin at the girl in his arms, “is my youngest, Leilani. Girls, have a seat. It appears the secrets out.” Louisa nodded, and Leilani copied her sister.

“Should I call Ginny and Lilah?” Louisa asked, taking her sister from her father’s arms.

“No, we can handle this for now.” Alfred ran a hand through his hair. “Nations of the world, may I introduce two of my daughters, Louisa Marie Jones, the Bayou state of Louisiana, and Leilani Victoria Jones, the Aloha state,Hawai’i. Yes, each state is personified. I have twenty-two daughters, twenty-six sons, and two non-binary kids. Yes, that totals up to fifty-one. I include Puerto Rico in my count. Now, we’ll,” He gestured to the girls and himself. “answer your questions-” The room exploded into a cacophony of noise. “IF you raise your hands!” Alfred bellowed to be heard. After a few minutes all the nations had settled down, and over half had their hands in the air. “Let’s start with England.”  
“How long have the states been personified? Why haven’t we heard of them before now?” Alfred sighed.

“I found Virginia when she was only a few months old. Typically, states are found around the six-month mark. As for why none of you knew…you had already left to go back to London when I found Virginia, and I didn’t have a way to get the information to you that was secure. None of you ever heard, save Mattie, because they’re all kids. Virginia, the oldest, is only eighteen, physically. After the revolution, I decided that it was best that none of you knew, for their safety. By the time things had settled down, none of the kids had any interest in meeting any of you. At least, not peacefully. Most of them hold a grudge against at least one of you, for various reasons.” Louisa grumbled something, and glared at France.

“How do we know these states aren’t a threat?” Germany shouted. Alfred glared before Louisa stood.

“Listen here, Nazi fucker! Y’all have hurt us more than enough to strike back, but we haven’t! Leilani has PTSD and scarring because of him!” She pointed to Japan, who had gone deathly still earlier. “Nicky is DEAF because of nine-eleven! Aleck has trust issues from him,” She gestured at Russia. “and a limp because of him!” She pointed -again- at Japan. “We’ve never fought back! We’ve never gotten back at those who abandoned us! We’ve kept to ourselves our entire lives! We were left for dead by the tribes our mothers represented, but Daddy took us in! He protected us, and raised us, and gave us a family!! We would die for him, but we haven’t ruined those who hurt him, because he taught us better!! The only, only reason we’d be a threat is if Daddy let us finally act, so count yourselves lucky that that’ll never happen! Leilani, honey, let’s go, before I start making dolls of them.” Hawai’i stood, and took her sisters hand, and the two left. Alfred ran a hand down his face.

“What did she mean, America-san, about us having hurt them, aru?” China asked, voicing the question none of the others dared. Alfred slumped in his seat.

“Leilani was only three at the time of the bombing of Pearl Harbor. She was bedridden for a year. She still has flashbacks, and scarring on her legs. Nicholas, New York, is fully deaf in both ears, from nine-eleven. Aleck is my youngest son, Alaska. Russia never knew about him, but he has serious trust issues due to being handed off to me. The limp is from the Aleutian Islands Campaign, in forty-two. He couldn’t walk for six months. He was four. Some of the others have issues, but none that drastic. Like I said, most of the states hate you guys.” It was a few minutes before anyone else spoke.

“What did she mean ‘the ones who abandoned them’, Америка?” Russia asked, a small crease between his brows.

“Only about half of the states are technically mine. Pretty much all those ‘born’ after eighteen-oh-three are mine. The others are one of yours.” He gestured at the other nations as a whole. “New York was a Dutch-Finish colony. New Jersey is a mix of the Italys and Germany. Virginia and a couple of the others are Iggy’s. Their mothers were the personifications of different native tribes. Whenever a new state or territory is claimed, I spend a couple months there, to adjust to all the new citizens and to find the newest personification. Mattie usually keeps an eye on the younger kids for me, when the older ones aren’t available.”

“Alfred, did you ever intend to tell us?” France asked.

“Honestly, Francis? I don’t know. If they wanted to meet you, then…maybe. If they never wanted to meet you, then I probably wouldn’t. They’re my kids, guys. It’s my job to protect them, to keep them safe. If a war broke out, they could be targeted. I don’t know how I would react to that. I was thinking about telling you all, right before World War Two. Then, I thought about telling the Axis. But Hawai’i got hurt, then Alaska. I figured, if the two of them got hurt, the others could as well. Look, it’s late. I’m heading home. We can arrange a time for a few of you to meet them, if you’re that concerned that they pose a threat. I need to check in on my kids. Odds are, if Leilani had a flashback, so did Nick.” He grabbed his jacket from where it was draped on the back of his chair, and headed for the door.

“What have we done? We have children, children we never even knew existed.” France muttered in shock. In the deathly-quiet room, it echoed.

“I…I need to go.” Japan said, loosing his usual stoic demeanor. He near-jogged to the door.

“The question isn’t ‘what have we done?’.” Germany declared. “It’s, ‘what do we do now?’” The nations glanced at each other, uncertain.

“We take Америка up on his offer. We ask to meet with them. Where we go from there, I have no idea.” Russia said, gazing out the window at the skyline.

“I’ll make the call in the morning. For now, let’s head back to the hotel. I think we could all use some rest after…that.” England stood packing his briefcase. And so, the nations of the world packed their things and made their way morosely to a nearby hotel. None slept well that night.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nations receive a warning.

It was a week after the disastrous meeting, and Germany, Russia, England, China, Japan, France, and both of the Italy twins were in a large van, headed to the address that had been America’s sole response to the request to meet he states. All were nervous. How did you interact with children you had never even met? Germany, who was driving, pulled to a stop in front of a large, ornate, wrought iron gate, with a small guard house next to it. The gate was part of a tall brick fence, with loops of barbed wire om top. The guardhouse looked almost like a tollbooth, but with dark tinted glass that none of them could see through. Germany rolled down the window, and pressed a small button on the side of the booth.

“Eight to see Herr Jones.” The speaker beside the button crackled after a moment.

“Follow me.” The group exchanged puzzled glances, before the wall of the guard booth on the inside of the fence swung open, releasing a boy of no more than seventeen, who had brown hair and blue eyes. He wore a plain gray tee shirt and blue jeans, with a pair of black sneakers. The boy pulled a heavy looking keyring from his belt, flipped through the keys, and unlocked the gate. He gestured his arm for the van to pull through, before shutting and locking the gate behind them. He walked in front of them, leading them down a long, twisting, turning drive, with dozens of off-shoots. Some of the side roads were dirt and gravel, others looked freshly paved. Finally, they stopped in front of a large house. It was seven stories, and near two hundred yards wide. In front was a cul-de-sac style driveway, lined by a tall row of hedges. The manor itself had balconies marking every floor, and a large, whitewashed wraparound porch. Germany stopped the van, which sounded like it was on its last leg, in front of the house. One of the half-dozen or so children sitting on the porch stood, and headed towards them. The figure revealed itself to be a girl of sixteen or so, with mildly tanned skin, purple eyes, and ash blond hair. She wore a long-sleeve style tunic top, jeans, and a pair of black ankle boots.

“Morning, gentlemen, my name is Isabelle. I’ll be parking your car. If you like, I’ll have Michelle take a look at it. Sounds like it’s half dead.” The girl glanced at the vehicle warily. Germany nodded, and handed her the keys.

“That would be much appreciated. It seems our vehicle could use some repairs.” Germany rubbed the back of his neck.  
“Ohohon, that would be much appreciated, ma cherie. Pardon my asking, but which of the states do you represent?” France stretched a white rose towards the girl. She sneered at him, before slapping it out of his hand.

“I’m am not your ‘cherie’, and I’m the Hoosier state of Indiana. I’ll have the van fixed, so that y’all can drive it later. I’ll likely see you at supper.” The girl slipped into the driver’s seat of the van, and gunned the engine. She paused, and stuck her head out the window. “Oh, and Russia?” The tall nation looked down at the girl, who was hanging half out the window. “Ya might wanna stay out of the sunflower fields. Dad’s told us all about you all, but Katrina’s awful territorial ‘bout her flowers. If you’re allowed, she’ll let ya know. Now, if’n you all’d stand back.” The girl rolled the window back up as the nations stepped back. The van screeched as it hit speeds that seemed impossible, as it drifted around the corner. The eight stood there stunned. How did she make a half dead car go near three hundred kilometers? They all turned at a chuckling behind them. The sound originated from a boy who looked maybe seventeen, with blonde hair and blue eyes, in a sleeveless white tee-short and jeans that were coated in grass stains. He wore a plain blue baseball cap, and had a nasty looking sunburn on his nose.

“She wasn’t kidding, that van of yours really was half dead. Else she’d have been going much faster, believe you me. Names Kenneth, but y’all can call me Ken. I represent Kentucky, the Bluegrass state. I’ll be your guide, as I’m one of the more…neutral states. Few rules first. One, like my sister said, no going into the sunflowers. Two, no entering the kitchen. Three, no entering private rooms. This includes offices and bedrooms. Four, do not mention the civil wars, pearl harbor, nine eleven, the Louisiana purchase, Aleutian raids, or the great depression. It’s for your own health. Five, if one of my siblings doesn’t wanna meet you, don’t ask them why. I’ll explain if I can. Six, never bring up sports. I feel the need to warn y’all. Today is Mardi Gras, a big holiday for some of the southern states, Louisa especially, so it’s…gonna be a little wilder than usual, if that’s even possible. Ready? No? Well, we’re going anyway!” The blond spun on his heel, and started up the sidewalk to the porch. The remaining three children looked up from the book the eldest had been reading out loud.  
One was a young woman, maybe eighteen or nineteen, with blonde hair and green eyes. She wore a knee-length skirt, a light blue button up sweater, and a pair of black flats. She sucked in a breath at the sight of them. On her left, sharing the rocking loves seat with her, was the little girl form the meeting, Hawai’i. On her right, curled up against her side, was a little boy, barely ten, in a white hoodie, with a blue scarf on. He looked just like, Russia, save his eyes, which were a sky blue. He looked up at his sister’s pained gasp, and blinked at them, before grasping the older girl’s sleeve tight. A dog none of them had noticed leapt to attention, growling at them. The hound was huge and wolf like, with brown marking instead of gray, and blue eyes.

“Easy, Juneau. Aleck, ‘Lani, go out back, sugars. Cadence will play with you. I need to chat with our guests. Take Juneau.” The children exchanged glances before slipping down from the bench. They walked behind the dog, and ran down the porch past the nations. “Good morning, gentlemen. My name is Virginia Amelia Jones, personification of Virginia, the mother of states. I am the first colony, tenth state, and the one who will kill you should you hurt my family. None of you have any claim to any of us. I have seen all of the children here grow and prosper, and if you so much as make them cry, I will end you. Are we clear?” The young woman’s voice remained soft and sweet, but her smile gained a sharp edge that none of them quite liked.  
“Germany, she’s scary.” Northern Italy trembled, hiding behind the blond.

“Oh, not you, sugar. I mainly mean the limey and the frog. Now. Kenny, if you can show our guests around, I need to make sure that Wayne’s stores are full. We’re gonna need it.” The young woman flashed Italy a smile, before heading through the large oaken double doors.

“Hate when she calls me that. Oh, you’ll likely be hearing a lot of references to Wayne. He’s Wyoming. Runs the only bar any of us can actually get drunk at, since we all look underage. If need be, we can swing by there later. He’s got some pretty good stuff. Now, brace yourselves. We’re headed into the lion’s den!” The boy threw open the double doors, and the nations were enveloped in a cacophony of noise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope to introduce a few new states every chapter. PLEASE comment! I'm socially deprived, and your opinions sustain me.


	3. Chapter Three

Two boys were arguing in what looked to be a large living room. There was a large fireplace, over which hung the biggest tv many of the nations had ever seen. Both seemed to be nineteen, but were otherwise polar opposites. The one on the left wore a suit and tie, both high qualities, with cufflinks of gold and a red stone.

“Bagels!” He bellowed at the boy in an obnoxiously bright orange jersey.

“Fight me! Cheesesteak!” The boy yelled back. The one yelling had blue eyes, a chiseled jaw, and blonde hair.

“We both know Dad doesn’t let us fight inside anymore! Bagels!” The suit wearer yelled back. His skin was tan, and he had blue-green eyes and brown hair, which was slicked back. Kenneth sighed.

“Both of you are wrong!” The boy’s heads swiveled to their little brother. “Fried chicken is the best! Now, introduce yourselves or leave!” He crossed his arms and huffed.

“My apologies for my…uncouth behavior.” The suit wearing boy straightened his tie as he spoke, with an odd accent.

“My name is Nicolas, and I represent the empire state, New York. If you’ll all excuse me, I need to check my stocks. God knows feeding this family costs a fortune.” He turned on his heel and strode from the room, chattering into a Bluetooth headset.

“Pfft. Ignore him. He’s buying Lani tickets to Disney on ice again.” The other boy walked towards them, hand out. “My name is Peter, and I represent the keystone state, Pennsylvania. Ken, you got this? We both know what Louisa might do, not to mention the southwest.” The brothers shuddered.

“I think I do. Let’s just hope that the great lakes decide not to summon a wendigo again.” Peter pinched Ken’s arm.

“Don’t go giving’ them ideas!” He glanced at England. “Though we both know none of us would stop them.”

“No maiming, Dad’s orders!” Kenneth slapped the older state upside the head.

“How about mental trauma?” Peter asked.

“NO! Now, Uncle Mattie is here, and he’s alone with Vermont. Can you distract them with a game or two?” Ken watched as his brother lit up.

“On it! See ya, lobster back!” Pennsylvania tore off down the hallway away from the nations, leaving them alone with Kenneth once more.

“I am not a lobster back!” England grumbled, and Ken sighed.

“Trust me, it’s better than what the rest of the thirteen call you. Now, follow me. Lunch ‘B’ should be just about done, so you’ll be able to see some more of the states.” Kenneth took of down the opposite hall his brother had, and the nations somewhat reluctantly followed.

“Germany, Germany! Peter looked a lot like you, huh? And Nicolas looked like Romano and I!” Kenneth winced.

“Oh, yeah. We tend to take on the appearance of whatever country influences us most. Nico has a large Italian population, and his eyes are from Dad and Iggy here. Peter has a lot of Dutch and German heritage. He hosts Oktober fest every year, too. You, uh, don’t wanna know.” Ken winced. He seemed to do that a lot. “Here we are, the secondary dining hall. This room holds maybe twenty-five to thirty people at a time, and we all eat lunch in shifts. Right now’s ‘B’ lunch. Here we go!” The boy cried, throwing open the double door to reveal a large room full of children of all ages. The walls were a light blue, and the hardwood floor a rich red. There were two tables against the three interior walls, each laden with all kinds of food. In the center of the room, there were six round tables, where the children sat. The heads of all present swiveled to look at the fool who dared come so late into lunch.

One girl, maybe nineteen, stood, wiped her mouth, and made her way over to them.

“Good afternoon. My name is Delilah Elizabeth Jones. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. The girl on my left,” She gestured to the Italian looking girl beside her. “is my sister,

Nicole. We represent Delaware, the first state, and New Jersey, the garden state, respectively.” The girl on her right, who’s skin was a rich cocoa color, smiled before stepping forward. She wore a plain blue blouse that matched her right eye (the left being brown) and a gray pencil skirt.

“Afternoon, sugars. My name is Georgia, and I represent the peach state, Georgia. Ignore Lilah. She tries to act more mature than she really is. How’s Kenny been treating you?”

She took Italy’s arm and guided him to a table that was mostly empty, save a boy and girl who looked like twins. “Nate, Samantha, introduce yourselves please.” The two, who looked maybe fourteen, glanced at each other.

“My name’s Samantha Rain Jones, and I represent the Mount Rushmore state, South Dakota.” The girl fiddled with the dream-catcher shaped charm on her necklace.

“I’m Nathaniel, the Peace Garden state, North Dakota. And, yes, we’re twins. There are three sets of us in the family. Sammy, you wanna go for a race?” He glanced at his sister as he stood.

“Ne-ol against your latest bike?” He nodded. “You’re on!” The two dumped their plates in a large tub of sudsy water as the ran past on their way out of the room. Georgia sighed.

“Those two are utter speed demons. Nicole, be a peach and tell Isaac to be expecting Nate. He needs to slow down on those turns. Now, please, have a seat, gentlemen, while I grab you each some food.” Georgia gestured to the table that was now empty, and made her way over to one of the tables, which was laden with plates and cutlery. “Aaron, sugar, lend me a hand? You too, honeybee.” A boy and a girl, both blonds stood, and made their way over, grabbing two plates each. The nations settled into seats around the table, glancing at each other uncertainly. The three came bustling back over, each carrying two plates. Each nation received a plate filled with food, before Georgia spoke again.

“Eat up, now. And you two, where are your manners?” She snapped at the other two. Both were blond, but the boy had a buzzcut, while the girl wore her hair in long, braided pigtails. Both wore plaids and work boots, but where she wore jeans, he wore a pair of beat-up overalls.

“My name is Aaron Jones, and I’m the natural state, Arkansas.” The boy spoke first. He looked similar to America, with brown eyes and a violin-like instrument in his hand.

“Wait- are-can-saw?!” I’ve been saying are-Kansas!” Britain spluttered, choking on his beef wellington.

“My name is Katrina, ‘nd I represent the sunflower state- “Russia stopped chewing on his perogies. “- of Kansas.”

“Privet, Miz. Kansas. My name is- “

“Fuck off, you comie bastard.” The girl, who looked no more than fifteen, spat. France wailed at such a sweet looking girl using such foul language. “Aaron, let’s go. Nico bet me five bucks you couldn’t play one of the solos from Fiddler on the Roof, and I’m gonna accompany you on my dulcimer. Georgia, I’ll see you at dinner.” The two turned away and made their way to the doors.

“Vee, Miss Georgia, this pasta is really really good!! Who made the tomato sauce?” Italy cried, as his twin devoured his plate.

“My little brother, Obadiah. Most of us have state fruits. Let’s see, mine is the peach, Oliver has the pawpaw, Franklin’s is the orange, Obadiah’s is the tomato, Vera and Nico have apples, Unita has cherries, blackberries are Avery’s, and Nicole has a certain type of blueberry. So on and so forth. The desserts at dinner are our individual specialties. Louisa has beignets, and Isabelle makes a mean sugar cream pie. How’s the food?” She asked, hope in her eyes.

“I’ve only had beef wellington this good once, and that was at Gordon Ramsey’s restaurant in London. Who made this?” England raved.

“That’d be Nico. He likes to cook whilst making big business deals on his headset. Says it helps him focus. And the rest of y’all?” Germany smiled.

“The spätzle was delicious, frau Georgia.”

“And ze quiche!”

“The lo mein is quite good, Aru!”

“As are the tempura shrimp!”

“Glad to hear it! My siblings will be pleased that y’all like the food. See, ‘round here we all pitch in with the cooking and cleaning. Now, Kenny seems to have disappeared, so I’ll take you gentlemen to the next part of the tour. Follow me!” Georgia giggled, as if hiding a secret from them. The nations, all very full of very good food, pushed back their chairs and followed the smiling southern belle to their next stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The fruits listed as state fruits are official!  
> 2)The dishes the countries name are real, authentic foods, from those countries.  
> 3)Yes, sugar cream pie is a thing, you'll hear more about it later.  
> PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT! I wanna know what you think, what you wanna know, what you wanna see! PLEASE!


	4. Number Four

The nations were following a chattering Georgia down the hall. She had her hand tucked into the crook of Italy’s elbow, and was discussing some recipe or another. Suddenly, Georgia was tackled to the ground by a dog. The dog was small, with brown fur and blue eyes. There was nothing truly exceptional about the dog, save the horns that sprouted from just behind its ears. The horns were short, maybe six inches, and pure white, curling like ram horns. The dog was standing with his paws on Georgia’s shoulders, licking her face.

"Adam!” She spluttered. “Get your cavejos off of me! We have guests!” A boy stepped out from around the corner the dog had come from, giggling. He was maybe twelve, with brown hair and eyes, tan skin, and a thick sweater and long jeans.

“Aw, Georgie, Kaax just wants to give you a kiss!” The boy pouted. “Or thirty!” His innocent façade was lost, and he began to giggle like a hyena. “Yum Kaax, tacon!” He patted his thigh once he had stopped. “Buena nina! Good girl! Such a good girl!” He ruffled the dog’s ears, still smiling, murmuring endearments in Spanish. “Georgia, Dad needs to see you. I’ll take this, before you lose it at the langosta. See you at dinner.” He helped her to her feet, patted her shoulder, and turned to the nations again. “Oh, this is Yum Kaax, my cavejos. Kaax, scent!” The dog sniffled at each of them, before turning to her master. “Kaax, friend. Remember.” The dog froze, barked, and snuffled her master’s hand. “Good girl"

“Vee! Who are you? My name is Feliciano, and this is my big brother, Romano! This is Ludwig! He’s mister Germany!” Italy smiled at the young boy, eager to make another friend.

“Oh! My name is Adam, and I represent Arizona, the Grand Canyon state! This sweet pea,” He ruffled the dogs’ ears. “is my cavejos, Yum Kaax.” The dog smiled up at him. “What, exactly, is a cavejos?” England asked.

“A central American dog of legend. She’s named for the Mayan god of the wild, and protector of animals.”

The voice came from another boy, eleven twelve, with traditional oriental features. He had brown, almond shaped eyes, tan skin, and short brown hair, cut into an undercut. “My name is William, and I represent the evergreen state, Washington. Did Dad really need to see Georgia?” He raised a brow at his brother.

“Pfft, no. But did we really want to leave any of the thirteen alone with the langosta?” William nodded in agreement, pushing a pair of bi-focal glasses up his nose.

“Fair enough. Now, I have the itinerary for the tour here.” He handed his elder brother, who was comically near four inches taller, an iPad. Right now, you lot,” He gestured to the nations. “are due in the music room. The rest of the south-west are putting on a show.” He sighed. “I need to warn Isaac that we may have a few sprained ankles. Cadence had provided the music, and will be furious if you’re late.”

“Ah, so it’s a Cadence day?” Adam asked.

“Indeed. If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with the Great Lakes.” William clapped a hand on his brothers’ shoulder, and passed him down the hall, typing on another iPad.

“Well, let’s head to the music room. My siblings are not patient when a performance is on the line. Follow me!” He called, heading down the hall, Yum Kaax at his heel.

“So, who are the south-west?” France queried.

“Let’s see, there’s me, Tiffany, Max, Unita, Neil, and occasionally Cadence. We all were Mexican territory, but none of us really remember that. Only Tiff really dislikes Mexico, and that’s because Rosa tried to take her back. Neil actually wants to meet her at some point.” As he chattered, Adam lead them along a winding path, down a staircase, and into a large, dark room. He ushered them over to a row of seats, before settling down himself. Suddenly, music started, coming from seemingly nowhere. The lights flicked on, blinding the nations. Standing in the middle of the room where two near identical girls, both with tan skin, one with blue eyes, the other brown. Both had somewhat tan skin, and vibrant red dresses. The girls’ brown hair was pulled back into identical buns at the back of their heads. They popped their hips in time with the music.

‘Let’s come together, singing love and harmonia’ a sweet voice joined the instrumental music.

‘We are so different, but the same inside our hearts!’ The girls twirled apart, revealing two boys.

‘Beautiful colors, as far as the eyes can see, ya’ As the girls spun, their skirts flared, revealing the undersides to be coated in vibrant colors.

‘Open your wings, fly when you hear the call!’ The four began circling, in an odd mix of a circle dance and salsa.

‘Let’s celebrate, for we are beautiful creatures! Come spread your wings, dance and sing songs about freedom!” The girls twirled into the arms of the boys, and then back out.

‘Like lah lah lah hoo hoo, One for the freedom familia! Like bah bah bah boom boom, calling the beautiful creatures!’ The boys each grabbed one of the girls around the waist, and hoisted them into the air as the music built into a grand crescendo. They spun the girls around, skirts flaring, before settling them down. With a final, powerful bang of the drums, the music stopped.

Adam was the first to clap, snapping the elder personifications from their stupor.

“Nice job guys! Cadence really outdid herself on the music, and Cate did wonderful on the dresses, especially for such a rush order!” He beamed at his siblings.

“Thanks, Adam!” The blue-eyed brunette giggled, swishing her skirt. “Howdy, gentlemen! My name is Tiffany Jones, and I represent the lone star state of Texas! This here’s my sister, Unita.” She dragged the other girl, who was slightly tanner, forward.

“Afternoon. As Tiff said, I’m Unita. I represent Utah, the friendly state!” Her smile was as bright as Italy’s.

“And never was there a truer nickname!” The taller of the two boys chuckled as he propped an elbow on each of the girl’s heads. “My name is Neil, and I’m New Mexico, the land of enchantment!” HE offered a hand to England. “Nice to meet the most hated nation!” Neil looked, upon closer inspection, like a male clone of Mexico. The other boy shoved his brother aside.

“Don’t be rude!” He punched his brother lightly on the arm. “My name is Maximillian, but I go by Max. I represent the treasure state of Montana. Please forgive my brother his…uncouth behavior.”

“Really, Max, you need to get that stick out of your- “A voice called from behind the now arguing south-west. The speaker was a tall blonde girl, maybe sixteen, putting her four or five years older than the others.

“LANGUAGE!” The south-western states yelled in unison, save Unita, who seemed determined to make friends with the nations.

“Ciao bella! My name is Feliciano, what’s yours?” Italy asked, offering a blue geranium the color of the girl’s eyes. She giggled and took the flower.

“My name is Cadence. I represent California, the golden state! Did you like the performance? It would have been longer, had we more time to prepare. As is I didn’t have time to edit the music as much as I’d have liked.” She huffed, clearly put out.

“It was fantastique! The colors were wonderful! Tell me, cherie, were did you get such wonderful dresses?” France gushed.

“Our dresses? Oh, our sister Catelyn, made them for us. She makes all our performance outfits.” Unita smiled from where she had been chatting with China and Japan. “Have you met her? She’s fantastic!”

“Actually, right now, we need to head to the track. The Dakota’s are racing again, and got Isabelle in on it. She just got her car tuned up, too. See you at dinner!” Adam bounced over from where he had broken up the fight between his siblings. “Follow me!” HE called, heading for the door. “We need to hurry if we wanna see the race, and trust me, you WANT to see this race!” The nations waved to the south-west, and hurried to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is 'Beautiful Creatures', from Rio Two. PLEASE COMMENT!  
> Also, big thanks to my sister for beta'ing!


	5. Chapter 5

Adam bounced down the hall, Yum Kaax trotting at his heels.

“ _Prostite,_ Adam, where are we going?” Russia asked, twisting his scarf.

“The track. Nate, Sammy, and Izzy are racing. It’s a pretty common occurrence, but it’s always pretty cool to watch. Feliciano and Romano will probably enjoy it.” He explained over his shoulder. “You’ve already met all of them, so it shouldn’t be too awkward.”

“Earlier, your sister Isabella seemed rather angry with Francis. Why?” England asked. Did all the states hate at least one of them, he wondered. Adam heaved a sigh, and seemed to deflate.

“Isabella represents Indiana, which was part of the Louisiana purchase. A lot of states dislike you all, because we feel we were abandoned. Aleck has it the worst. Most of us dislike Japan a lot, cause of what happened with ‘Lani. Ginny has some nasty scars on her back from the war of eighteen-twelve, when D.C. was burned to the ground. ‘Lani has scars on her legs from Pearl Harbor. Nico is mostly deaf from nine-eleven. His Bluetooth works as a hearing aide. Aleck has a nasty limp when he gets too cold from the Aleutian raids. Tiffany has a scar on her neck from the Alamo. All of us were raised by Dad, and have lived through so much.” He slumped, losing all exuberance. “We’re family, and can all freely admit, without each other, we’d likely be even more unstable than we all are now. Some days are worse than others. Wayne built his bar in the basement after Dad found a few too many of us sick with alcohol poisoning. We don’t really get hangovers, but too much alcohol at once can make us pretty sick.” He ran a hand over Yum Kaax’s head, before shaking himself off. “C’mon.” He smiled weakly. “we don’t wanna miss the race.”

X0X0X0

The nations followed a subdued Adam outside, as he led them back down the driveway. He eventually turned down one of the paved sideroads.

“Why are there so may off-shoots, aru?” China asked.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. See, a lot of us have interests that take up a lot of space. Izzy and the Dakotas love to race, Kenny raises horses, Nico and Mason run a zoo for the younger states, so on and so forth. We couldn’t fit a space for everyone inside the house, so Dad and some of the mid-western states built out buildings. Michelle even has a fully functional garage, with about, oh, eighty cars or so? She keeps getting more.” Yum Kaax barked, chasing a butterfly. They turned the final corner, revealing a large arena, and Adam led them inside. They followed him up several flights of stairs, exiting into a row of stadium seats.

“Have a seat, guys. This is gonna be _good_.” Adam bounced on his heels, back to his exuberant self. The nations glanced at each other, slightly nervous, before sitting down. Every time America got that look in his eyes, things tended to blow up. The roar of an engine drew their attention to the track. A shiny blue car pulled onto the track, engine purring. Painted on the hood and doors was a torch, surrounded by nineteen stars. Next onto the track was a blue motorcycle, the make of which none of the nations recognized. Painted on the side was a bird, what kind was indistinguishable from the distance. Last was a Paint mare, with a black coat and white spotting. Her mane was a rich ravens-wing. Riding on her back was Samantha, meaning the one on the motorcycle was Nate. The horse was at least eighteen hands, truly a behemoth. Isabelle revved her engine, and Nate revved his in return. The horse reared, and wheeled her legs. Leilani strode onto the track, held up a checkered flag, and dropped it. The three zoomed past the small girl, who then ran off the track.

“How bloody fast are they _going_?” England spluttered.

“This is just a casual race. Izzy’s actually been banned by Dad from entering into any real races, same as the other two. They’ll hit maybe two or three hundred miles per hour, max. They won’t drop below that, though. It’s a good work out for Ne-ol. Sammy and Kenny race once in a while. His thoroughbreds are all pretty good horses, but no matter how hard he tries, Ne-ol will always be the fastest.” This, Adam said with absolute certainty.

“Why?” Queried France, bored with the race.

“She is dessert storms personified. She was a gift to Sammy from her mom. I got a small dreamcatcher from mine. It’s up in my room, safe. Most of us got something from our mothers, those who personified the native tribes before we came along. Leilani has a whole house, in Honolulu, from the Hawai’ian kingdoms, Keone. A lot of us knew Lani’s mom, so we tell her stories sometimes. Ooh, they’re finally speeding up.” Adam broke himself from his reverie, eyes going back to the track.

Indeed, the trio was now going faster and faster. Soon, it became hard to tell where they really were. The Italy brothers were up, out of their seats, cheering and screaming. For once, Germany was right there with them, hollering in German at the top of his lungs.

“SLOW THE HELL DOWN, IZZY! YOU’LL BLOW THE TIRES AGAIN!!” A girl bellowed from the row in front of them. “I DON’T HAVE HELP; I WON’T BE ABLE TO CHANGE THEM FAST ENOUGH!” She was screaming into a headset, furiously waving a clipboard.

“Err, who is that?” Japan asked, gesturing at the girl of no more than twelve.

“Hm? Oh, that’s Michelle. She’s the one who does all the car work around here. She’s got the big three car companies, so she’s the best with cars. We all kind of have a specialization of some kind. YO, MICHELLE!” Adam leaned forward and yelled in her ear.

“Jesus, Adam! A little less volume, next time!” The girl glared at her little brother. “Can I help you? I’m kind of busy with – ISABELLE RHONDA JONES, IF YOU TRY TO JUMP NE-OL, YOU WILL _WRECK_ YOUR CAR, AND I WILL _KILL YOU! -_ our idiot sister. Oh, hi. You must be the nations. I’m- _I WILL GET IRENE TO HELP ME BURY YOU ALIVE, YOU LITTLE SHIT! -_ Michelle, nice to meet you.” The girl switched between bellowing into her mic and acting sweet as pie to England and a very confused France. There was a loud pop from the tracks, and the car wobbled to a stop on the side of the track, before continuing on at break-neck speeds.

“That’s it!” She ripped off the headset, and stomped it to bits. “Adam, if she ruins another brand-new car, I will gut her. Now, as I was saying, my name is Michelle, and I represent Michigan, the great lakes state. Nice ta meet cha!” She offered a hand that had grease under the nails. France recovered the fastest, and took the offered hand, kissing the back.

“Bonsoir, Madame! Je m’appelle Francis Bonnefoy. A pleas-oof!” Michelle’s face fell, and she ripped her hand away. She reared back, slapping him, hard.

“Adam, what the _hell_ is he doing here? Louisa will be here soon to get the idiots on the track checked by Isaac. If she sees him, she will kill him, and _I will help._ ” She glared at her baby brother.

“I can’t split them up, and Ginny’s schedule said that they were supposed to see at least one race today, since it had been about a week since the speed-demon trio had raced last! I’m not at fault here! At least ‘Lani and Aleck have stayed away, instead of trying to spy on them.”

“If they aren’t supposed to split up, _then why did Oliver just drag England away?!”_ Michelle screeched. Adam froze. The two locked eyes.

“They wouldn’t!” Michelle gasped, pale as a sheet.

“They would. They would, and we all know it.” Adam said.

“What’s going on?” Virginia asked from where she was entering the stadium. “Where’s Mister Kirkland? I was going to introduce the nations to Isaac while he was here. He’s with Louisa now, checking the speed-demon trio. Adam, the schedule clearly said _not to let them wanderin’ off.”_ She huffed.

“Oliver pulled him away.” Adam said, as Michelle dialed her phone.

“What? He’s not on rotation to act as tour guide. Why would he even want to associate with England?” The strawberry blonde asked, wary.

“None of the mid-west are answering! Nate, Sammy, and Izzy are here, same as Isaac. That leaves Nadia, Miles, Mason, Walt, Irene, Katrina, and maybe Aaron. If Oliver is the one who dragged England away, that means he’s obviously in on this.” Michelle spoke, shoving her phone in her pocket.

“What’s going on everybody?” Feliciano asked. Now that the race was over, he seemed much calmer.

“Y’all need to head back to the main house. Michelle, you get them there, _now_. Adam, get Dad. He’s gonna be so pissed.” Virginia gave orders like a seasoned general.

“Vhat is going on?” Germany asked. He knew the look in the state’s eyes. Someone was either hurt, or about to be.

“The Midwest don’t like England very much. They’re the first of us to be solely _Dad’s_ kids, no other nation’s interference. As such, they all hate England for hurtin’ him. Last time they were this pissed, it was with Jim Crow. They tried to- “Virginia cut herself off, gagging a little.

“What?! What did they do?” Italy cried, flailing in fear.

“They tried to sacrifice him to a wendigo.” Adam said, voice shaky.

“The HELL is a wendi-thingy, tiny burger bastards?!” Romano spoke.

“A wendigo is a man who, in the dead of winter, ate the flesh of a human. Most stay human, never completing the transformation. Some develop a taste for it, and take to eating anyone they can. It changes them, into monsters, beasts, who crave human flesh. Wendigos are savage bein's, mindless brutes. Some have fur covered bodies, and long, razor like claws. Others are easily nine feet tall, skeletal beasts, with a buck skull for a head, and glowin’ red eyes. Summonin' one is bad _juju._ What those children are thinking, I’ll never know.” Louisa spoke from the stair well. “I’ll get my dolls. Looks like we have a dumb-ass lobster to save."


	6. Chapter 6

England came-to gagged and tied to a chair. This wasn’t unusual. He had been knocked out and tied to chairs before, usually during wars when he acted as a spy. What _was_ unusual was the teenagers surrounding him. He was seated at a plain steel table in what looked like an interrogation room. Directly across from him was a girl who bore a striking resemblance to Italy. She wore a three-piece suit and fedora, and was puffing away on a cigar. There were seven other kids in the room, three girls and four boys. He tried to read them like he was trained to do, but all he got was disgust and hatred. All the children looked eerily like America, and he had a sinking suspicion that this was not going to end well for him. The children (none of who were over thirteen) were standing so that the girls were on one side, the boys on the other.

“Good afta’ noon, Mistah Kirkland. My name is Irene Alya Jones. I am the prairie state of Illinois.” She stood, and pulled her chair until the back hit the wall. “Do ya happen ta know what city is in Illinois, Mistah Kirkland?” She snapped her fingers, and two of the others grabbed the table, moving it against the wall next to the chair. England shook his head, getting concerned. The girl sighed.

“Course ya don’t know. I’ll tell ya, since I’m feeling generous.” She chuckled. “Ya evah heard o’ Al Capone, Mistah Kirkland, and the city he ran?” Arthur felt his eyes widen. “I take it ya have, based on the fact ya look ready to run for tha hills. In case I’m wrong, I’ll tell ya. I host the great city of Chicago, the once-mafia capital of these great states. Now, that was near eighty years ago, but tha era left it’s mark on me. That means, when I so feel the need, I can get rather…cruel wit’ those who displease me. Around you are my siblings and fellow mid-western states. Directly to your right is Katrina.” The blonde on his right nodded. “Next ta her is Michelle, and besides her is Nadia.” A brunette and a redhead, both glaring at him.

He thrashed. He had heard of what Capone did to his enemies, and he did _not_ want to have to deal with that. He may not be able to drown, but being dropped into a bay would be rather inconvenient.

“On ya left are my brothers, Miles, Mason, Oliver and Walter.” All of the boys were blond and broad shouldered, wearing plaid shirts and blue jeans. All four glared at him, blue eyes narrowed. “Did Samantha set up the circle yet?” The question was directed at the girl in the center, Michelle. The brunette nodded, crossing her arms. “Then we can begin. Boys, if’n you’d be so kind.” The four grabbed his chair, and hoisted him up. He wound up on his back, facing the ceiling. They began to move, and he was carried through a doorway, bumping his head against the frame. He was hauled a few more yards, through what looked like a warehouse, before the chair was set on the ground none-to-gently. He glanced around, and saw he was sitting in the center of a ritual circle. He couldn’t read the writing around the edges, but he knew that this was not good. One of the girls from before, Nadia, walked around the circle, wearing a Native American dress and moccasins. She spun on her heel, and smiled at him.

“We all aware of your penchant for magic, Mister Kirkland, so we’ve decided to show you some magic native to America! We will be introducing you to a magical beast that you’ve likely never heard of, a wendigo. See, wendigos are beasts who were once human, but turned to cannibalism for some reason, and developed an…attachment to the taste of human flesh. We hope that you enjoy!” She smiled in a way that would have been cute, were she not picking up a large wooden staff that looked like it could cave his skull in. One of the boys, in only a pair of buckskin trousers, began painting lines onto her face in an odd paste. He paused once he was done, and looked over the paint critically. He stared for a moment, before nodding to himself. He walked out of Arthur’s line of sight, and Nadia raised the staff. She waited, frozen until one of the other girls lit the fire behind her. She then began to chant, and pressure gathered in the air. He couldn’t understand what she was saying, but he could see the tendrils of magic gathering in a spot a few feet before her. A dark spot appeared, hovering in the air. It began to grow as she continued to chant, and slowly developed small protrusions in the shape of limbs and a head. He was so focused on the encroaching doom, that it took him a second to notice the chanting had stopped. His eyes snapped up, to see Nadia clutching her cheek, as if she had just been slapped, though there was no one around. The girl then collapsed onto her back, dropping the staff, which rolled a few feet away, before being stopped by a boot.

“Kids.” It was Alfred, and he looked angrier than the time England had joked about the civil war (he had punched him, which made sense now). “You will go change. You will hand over _all_ electronics to Delilah. You will wait in my office. You will not make any stops along the way. You will not speak to anyone who asks to know what happened. And for the love of apple pie, you will _not_ try to come up with a way out of this.” He was not wearing his glasses, and his face was stone. “ _Am I understood?”_ Arthur suddenly understood how America, goofy, lazy, silly, childish America, had raised fifty children alone. Because he, though he had done nothing wrong, felt like he needed to drop to his knees and _beg_ forgiveness.

“Yes, sir.’’ All eight children murmured, staring at the ground. They stood there, shoulders hunched and heads down.

“GO!” He yelled, and they scurried off. Alfred strode forward, and pulled a knife from his belt, and, for a brief moment, Arthur wondered why he had brought a knife. America made quick work of the bindings and gag, before heading for a door set in a wall behind Arthur. “C’mon. Isaac will check you over. They likely gave you something pretty strong to knock you out, and we need to know if it’ll have any side effects.” His voice was quiet, and reminded Arthur of distant thunder, promising a great storm.

XoxoX

Arthur was shown by a quiet Louisia to a med bay in the left wing of the house. She held the door, and led him to a small cot.

“You don’t know how lucky you got, do you?” Her voice was soft and velvety, if grave.

“What would have happened, had they finished?” He asked, rubbing his wrists.

“The wendigo would have savaged you, leaving you in ribbons. I doubt even Isaac could have fixed you up all the way after that, _cher_.” She ran a hand over her braids, sighing. “A wendigo is a dark beast. We don’ mess with such creatures. They’re on level wit’ a roux-ga-roux. Nasty beasts, and hard ta get rid o’. You got damn lucky. Fo’ now, Isaac will look ya ovah, make sure those fool children didn’t do anything too dumb. I need to go deal wit the summoning circle dey made. You stay here. Isaac will take care o’ you real good.” She patted his hand, and sauntered to the door, bangles clanking.

He sat in silence till he heard a door open and close at the other end of the med bay. He glanced over his shoulder to see a boy with mousy blond hair and spectacles of no more than twelve or thirteen walking towards him, wearing a doctor’s coat and scrubs and glancing over a clipboard. He came to a stop next to the foot of the cot, and glanced up at Arthur.

“Hello, Mister Kirkland. My name is Isaac Jones, and I represent the hawkeye state of Iowa. I’ll be looking you over this afternoon. Yes, I am a medical doctor. I received my diploma via correspondence courses about eighteen years ago. I’m kinda the family nurse. I’ll just need to take a small blood sample really quick. While that gets analyzed by one of my machines, I’ll be giving you a brief physical examination, and treating those rope burns. Knowing my siblings as I do, they tied you by your ankles, knees, torso, wrists, and upper and lower arms, so I’ll give you a hospital gown to put on.” He rambled all of this out while rolling up Arthur’s sleeve and sliding a needle into a vein. What followed was the most rapid-fire check up Arthur had ever been through, the boy chattering at a hundred miles a minute.

“And you’re good to go!” The boy handed him a lollipop and gestured towards the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to type up some reports. Have a nice day, Mister Kirkland!” Arthur stumbled to the door in a daze. This was decidedly America’s family. No one else could be so weird.


	7. Chapter 7

Alfred stalked into his office, shoulders tense. Seated in leather armchairs in front of him was the mid-west, all avoiding his eyes. He settled into his plush armchair, which usually relaxed him. He steepled his fingers on his desk, and stared at his children.

“One at a time. You will explain to me _exactly_ what your roles were in this. Then, you will explain to me _WHAT THE HELL YOU WERE THINKING!”_ All twelve kids flinched as he stood, slamming his hands onto the desk. He took a few deep breaths, before sitting back down. “Alphabetical order. _Now_.” He began messaging his temples.

“It was my job to scare him, Pa. Freak ‘im out, so that he wouldn’t be able to summon any of his magical friends.” Irene stared her father in the eye. She’d been in worse trouble before.

“Me ‘nd the twins were supposed to distract the others, so that he could be pulled away faster.” Isabelle muttered.

“I had _nothing_ to do with this, Pa.” Isaac barley looked up from his medical chart when he spoke.

“I am aware, Isaac. Leave Arthur’s medical report on my desk and head back to the med bay. Tomorrow is Mardi-Gras, and Louisa will need some help, same as Nick and Cadence.” Isaac nodded at his father and headed for the door.

“Spare muscle, to help intimidate him.” Katrina tried not to shrink further into herself.

“Same as Kat, Pa.” Michelle tried to mimic Irene, but kept looking around the room.

“Move the chair he was tied to.” Mason stared at the wall behind his Pa, unflinching. He had been Irene’s spare muscles more than once.

“Same as Mason, Pa.” Miles was in the same position as his brother, though his hands were shaking.

“Perform the ritual, summon the wendigo, set it on him, don’t mess up Sammy’s circle.” Nadia was squished against the back of her chair, hands clenched in her lap.

“Distraction. Run the race, make it good.” Nate grunted.

“Set up the circle, run the race.” Samantha whispered.

“Snag the British bastard, don’t get caught.” Oliver was shaking in his seat. He _never_ got in trouble, not like this. He would swap Cadence’s shampoo for hair dye, but that was nothing compared to this.

“More muscle, Pa.” Walter was even more stone-faced than his other siblings combined. He’d been caught several times trying to join the union army during the civil war.

“It was not really anyone’s idea, Pa.” Irene rubbed the back of her neck.

“ _Explain_.” Alfred ground out.

“We got drunk at Walt’s bar, and it just kinda, came up. We just…” Irene grit her teeth and clenched her fist. “He _hurt_ you, Pa. He made you feel _awful_ , and we just wanted to make you feel better. It was dumb and reckless, and, and, just…UGH. She slammed her fist down on her thigh, tears running down her face.

“Oh, sweet Betsy Ross, what am I gonna do with you kids.” Alfred sighed and stood up from behind his desk. He made his way around it, and knelt in front of Irene’s chair. “I’m not mad at you guys."

 _'Just scared'_ He thought to himself.

"C’mere.” He opened his arms, and all eleven children dove at him. He fell back onto the floor and the kids merely held on. They wound up laying on the floor, crying. After about ten minutes, Alfred broke the silence. “Alright, nice as this is, I have to talk to the nations. Everybody off.” The kids slowly slid off, helping each other up. He made his way to the heavy oak door. “I love you guys.” He glanced at them over his shoulder on his way out. Time to face the music.

XoxoX

The nations were seated in a large conference room, with fifteen chairs around an oval shaped table. Germany was on one end, with the Italy brothers and France to his left. On his right sat Russia, Japan, China, and England. They all were somber, and glanced at each other on occasion. The heavy wooden door at the other end of the room, behind the chair at the other end of the table, creaked open. A haggard looking America stepped through, and the door shut with a quiet thunk. He dropped into the chair in front of him, and he suddenly looked his full two-hundred forty-three years old.

“I…wasn’t completely honest at the meeting… _Don’t_ give me that look, Arthur, I had to protect them. When I was eight, I found all of the original thirteen states in my backyard. I was young and alone and scared. They were no more than six months old, and I had _no idea_ what I was doing. A month later I found Vera. The two slaves I had, Mary and Susan, helped me take care of them. I was looking for people to take care of them. It took me about a year to realize just what they were. I canceled all fourteen adoptions right away. At that point, I was physically fifteen, and so scared. I knew that there would be more of them, and soon. At the rate I was expanding, it was inevitable. Near four years later, Louisa popped up, along with six others. They didn’t stop appearing for nearly a full century. One after the other. When the war of eighteen-twelve broke out, I was furious. When you burned D.C. to the ground, I damn near charged off to kill you myself. I wasn’t sure how, but I knew that I wouldn’t rest until I was done. Then, I got home. Ginny was nine, and laying in the backyard on her stomach. Her siblings were gathered around her, panicked. They didn’t know what was happening, and they were scared to move her. Her entire back was burned. Her skin was cracked and charred and bleeding. It was then I realized that what I wanted to do didn’t matter anymore. These kids were mine, and I would never abandon them.” He paused, and leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. All was silent for a few minutes.

“The civil war was hell. None of the kids actually wanted slavery to continue. Hell, a good third of them are black.” He snorted. “I was in agony, but so were some of the border states. I could feel the confederacy rising, and I spent a large amount of my savings getting all of them here as soon as I could. They were mostly living scattered around the country to avoid suspicion. Fifty kids in one house was a little much.” He laughed softly, as if remembering an old joke. “Kenny was strapped to a bed, because he was having manic episodes, and attacking Georgia and Louisa. It got bad. He had to be sedated for the last two months of the war. I wasn’t much help, since I had such a bad migraine that I couldn’t move.” He stalked over to a part of the wood panel wall, and pressed his hand against it. It swung open with a soft click, revealing a fully stocked bar. He grabbed a jug, ripped out the cork, and filled a crystal glass with a good four fingers worth. He took a swig and sighed. “Apple pie, Walt and Avery make the best corn whiskey.” He stalked back over, and slouched in his seat.

“We stayed out of World War one. They were all still too hurt. I refused to let them get hurt. Some of the younger states wanted to join, but the thirteen and I held them back. We _tried_ to stay out of it, but the Aleutian raids began. Then… then Pearl Harbor was bombed. Aleck and Lani were barely eighteen months old. I couldn’t stay out of it. They’re my babies, my youngest kids. Neither of them could move. Lani got the worst of it. She has scaring from her thighs to her feet, and couldn’t walk like before. She was handicapped for several months. She has nasty PTSD still. Usually, me, Aleck, or Nick have to be the ones to calm her down. She can’t seem to hear anyone else.” Alfred slugged back the rest of his alcohol. “I understand if you need to keep them under observation, or interview them or whatever. But,” He set down his glass, as he had been toying with it, and glared over his glasses. “ _try to take them away from me, and I will **find** a way to kill anyone involved._” He stood smoothly, and strode to the door. “I will leave you to your deliberations, but keep what I have said in mind, gentlemen. These are my children, and there is _nothing_ I will not do to keep them safe.” The door opened and shut, and silence reigned.


	8. Chapter 8

Alfred stalked through the halls, headed for the back yard. The nations were bound to take a while deliberating, and he needed to see his youngest, make sure they were okay. He jogged down the steps, and tiptoed up to the swing set, where Wesley was pushing Leilani. Lani’s hair was streaming out behind her, and her laughter filled the air. Aleck’s scarf was swaying, as he was going far slower. He was a calmer kid, where Lani was all energy. He crouched down, and whispered in Wes’ ear.

“Let her fly, I’ll catch her.” Wes jumped a bit, before nodding. Alfred jogged around front, waiting.

“Ready to fly, Lani?” Wes shouted.

“Yes!” The girl cried, and on her next upswing, she let go. Alfred backed up a few steps, arms up. He caught her under the arms, and spun around, letting her legs flare behind her.

“Papa!” She giggled, hair a mess.

“Hey, kiddo. Do you and Aleck wanna go watch Lilo and Stitch?” Lani nodded, beaming.

“Aleck! Papa wants to watch a movie!” The small boy nodded, and hopped off his gently swaying swing. He walked over, tucking his book under his arm, and slid his hand into his father’s.

“You two want up?” Lani nodded, holding her arms up. Aleck just held up the arm not holding his book. Alfred stooped over, and hooked an arm around each child, before standing up so that they were balanced on each hip.  “Wes, you wanna join us?”

“Nah, I’m gonna go for a swim. See you later, Pa.” Wes nodded and headed around to the side of the house.

 _‘I hope so, kiddo._ ’ Alfred thought as he headed inside.

X0X0X

“What are we going to do?” England asked, brows furrowed.

“Nothing.” Romano shot back.

“You can’t be serious, aru!” China yelled.

“I can and I am!” The angry Italian decreed. “How would you feel if someone tried to take Japan or Hong Kong from you?”

“I’d…. I’d be angry, aru.” The ancient nation sat back down, mulling this over. He knew had anyone ever even thought of taking one of his children away he would have murdered them, no hesitation. The thought of loosing all of them at once nearly killed him.

“Please explain, Romano.” Germany sighed, rubbing his forehead.

“We can’t and wont steal Hamburg- America’s kids. If any of us lost our kids, we’d go ape. So, I will stand with America should you try to take _any_ of his kids. I understand asking him to discipline them, but taking the kids from him would be inhumanely cruel, and _literally illegal_.” Romano growled, and the other nations went pale. The nations involved in the UN had signed a treaty to never try to kidnap one another after an unfortunate incident between Belarus and Ukraine. The treaty had included micronations and territories. Technically, the states would qualify.

“Vee, I agree with you, Fratelo. I refuse to tear this family apart.” Italy was serious, no smiles or ditzy questions.

“I agree. If someone tried to steal Canada away from me I would ‘ave rioted like it was ze revolution.” France frowned. He _had_ lost Matthew, and the pain of it had nearly broke his heart.

“I couldn’t agree more.” England sighed. “If someone tried to take any of my colonies from me, I would likely have gone full-pirate on them.”

“I…cannot, in good conscience, steal America-san’s children from him.” Japan sighed.

“да. I cannot do such a thing.” Russia decreed. “If I did, Miz Katrina would never let me see the sunflowers.” He muttered to himself.

“Very well, we’ve decided not to remove America’s children from his care. The question is, what _are_ we going to do?” The nations all looked to each other, determination in their eyes.

X0X0X

America sat on a plush leather couch on the third floor, with Lani curled against his one side, and Aleck on his left. Lilo and Stitch, ‘Lani’s favorite Disney movie, was playing on a flat screen hung above the fireplace. Right now, Stitch was looking at the story book in the rain. The scene fit Alfred’s mood to a ‘T’. He heard Lani snore a little, and couldn’t help but smile down at her. She looked angelic, with her hair in little pigtails, all curled up against him with her head resting on his side. Aleck, on the other hand, was watching the movie with half hooded eyes, nearly asleep. Alfred carefully grabbed the remote, trying not to wake his youngest. He pushed the power button, and scooped an arm around ‘Lani.

“Aleck, bud.” Aleck blinked at him, groggy. “Let’s get your sister into her bed, ‘kay?” Aleck nodded, before sliding off the couch. Juneau, who had joined them on the couch a few minutes into the movie, just watched them leave the room. Alfred took the stairs carefully, until he reached the fourth floor. Aleck eased open a door painted with a Hawai’ian print. There was a small plaque on the center of the door was a number ‘50’. Alfred walked slowly across the room, waited on Aleck to pull the sheets back. and eased the small girl into the four-poster princess bed she had begged for. Once he had his littlest girl (they were all little to him, but ‘Lani was the smallest) carefully tucked into her bed.

“Aleck.” He whispered. His son glanced up at him, and America patted the mattress beside where he was sitting. “Do you want to nap in here with your sister, or head to your room?” Aleck help up his arms, and Alfred scooped him up onto the bed so that he was curled up with his sister. Alfred helped the sleepy child take off his sneakers, kissed each of his children on the forehead, and went to face the music.


	9. Chapter 9

Alfred stood outside the door of the conference room, trying not to panic. What was their choice? He raised a shaking hand and knocked on the door, trying not to scream.

“Come in, America.” England called, and Alfred swung open the door. He strode in, jaw set, and sat in the same chair as earlier.

“We’ve come to a decision, mon ami.” France said.

“All of the states are going to be allowed to stay with you here.” Japan began.

“Oh, thank _fuck_.” Alfred whispered, putting his head in his hands.

“Under one condition,” Russia jumped in. “We want to meet _all_ of them. From now on, you’ll take turns bringing them to meetings, so that they can meet the nations.”

“I…I can accept that.” Alfred sighed. “Just, don’t expect them all to be happy about it. “You guys have met twenty-four of them so far, so that’s only twenty-six to meet. We can have meetings tomorrow for the others. Though, Iggy, what the Midwest did will seem mild compared to what some of the others want to do.” England grimaced.

“I don’t suppose that’s really their faults though.” He sighed.

“Then we will meet with half of the other’s tomorrow, aru.” China nodded, adjusting where Panda was seated in his lap.

“I’m gonna go tell the kids the good news.” Alfred said, standing from his chair. He barely made it to his office before he began sobbing.

“Daddy?” Ginny asked, stepping in to the room.

“We’re safe.” He whispered.

“Oh, praise the lord.” She responded, stepping into his open arms.

X0X0X

“What the hell, Vodka-bastard?!” Romano yelled. “That wasn’t part of the decision!”

“I vant to meet all of the states. It is only right.” Russia defended. “Don’t tell me you don’t vant to meet them.”

“He’s right.” Japan sighed. “I’m curious about the other states.”

“We all are,” England snapped. “but we didn’t agree to that beforehand.”

“I don’t care. I will meet all of them, with or without you all.” The tall man stood and strode from the room, glowering.

X0X0X

Katrina had been walking down the hall, headed back from the bi-monthly mid-western state meeting when the door to Daddy’s personal meeting room swung open, letting out the angry looking Russian. She walked up and grabbed his sleeve. He towered over her by a good foot and a half, but that didn’t really bother her.

“Do you wanna see my sunflower fields?” She asked, smiling.

X0X0X

Ivan had been leaving the meeting room, frustrated. All he wanted was a family, why didn’t the other nations understand? He had felt a soft tug on his sleeve, and had looked down to see the young girl from earlier, the personification of Kansas.

“Do you want to see my sunflower fields?” She asked, and he merely nodded.

“Da. I would like that very much.” She beamed, and oh, how she looked like a little Ukraine! She grabbed his sleeve again and started walking.

“My name is Katrina. Why were you in Daddy’s conference room? Were you meeting with the other nations who’re here visitin’?”

“Da. We needed to…decide some things. It was nothing special.” He lied. He couldn’t tell the bouncy fifteen-year-old that she had almost been taken from her family and relocated.

“I just finished a meeting ma self. We kids are divided into five groups. There’s the original fourteen, the Northeast, the Midwest, the West and the South. ‘Lani and Aleck are kinda their own group, but Ginny and Lila take care ‘o their business. Just up ahead!” He had been so busy listening to the girl chatter that he failed to realize they had gone outside and down the path a good way. She led him around one last corner, before stopping. There stood a grand field, dozens of rows of sunflowers, each taller than even him, and perfectly maintained.

“Do you take care of the sunflowers?” He asked.

“Sure do! They’re my state flower, and I’m known as the sunflower state. There are huge fields all across the country side!” The girl smiled in obvious pride. “Follow me!” She called, running into the flowers. Ivan quickly followed. With how tall the flowers were, he wouldn’t want her to get lost. He followed the rustling of her shoving her way through the field until he reached a large clearing. There sat Katrina, smiling up at the cloudless sky and weaving a small crown out of flowers from the wildflowers growing in the clearing.

“This is where I come to think. The flowers block out all other noise, so I feel like I’m back home. Each of us spends at least two moths in our homeland. If we don’t, our connection to our people grows weak, and after a while, we can get real sick…” She seemed lost in thought. “Take a load off, sugar. I know what it’s like to be right angry, and you looked about as happy as a long-tailed cat in a room full o’ rockin’ chairs.” He slowly walked into the clearing, before sitting down beside her. She stood and set the crown on his head. “You can stay here a while. I gotta go help get dinner started. And mister Russia?”

“Da?”

“Thank you for keeping ma family together.” She turned, and vanished into the flowers.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fic on here. I feel like this may become a multi-chapter story, but I'm not sure.


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